


The Monster Mash

by causidicus



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (But Hannibal-ish fluff), (So it's a little dark), Fluff, M/M, halloween fluff, soupçon of crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causidicus/pseuds/causidicus
Summary: Will and Hannibal take a bunch of kids trick-or-treating on Halloween (Hannibal doesn't eat any of the children). There is a canon-ish twist.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	The Monster Mash

“I’ve got something planned for us tonight.” 

Will paused in the entryway as he took off his jacket. “Nothing involving a suit.” 

“Not exactly those kinds of plans, no,” Hannibal agreed as he rehung Will’s coat.

Will pulled a plate of charcuterie Hannibal had prepared earlier that day out of the fridge and set it on the kitchen island, staring at Hannibal. “So what is it?” 

“We’re going trick-or-treating.” 

“What?” Will said around a piece of prosciutto. 

“We’re going trick-or-treating.” Hannibal was gathering jars out of the cabinets below his drawer of aprons.

Will picked up a piece of white-ish cheese. “It’s occurred to you that we’re adults? You know we used to arrest people for this in New Orleans.”

Hannibal opened the jars on the counter. “We will be volunteering.” He began spooning what looked to Will like mustard and jam into the charcuterie plate’s depressions. “Chaperoning the children of parents who have to work or are otherwise engaged.”

Will put the cheese down and put both hands on the island. “Hannibal--” 

“Come try on your costume.” 

”For chrissakes, don’t tell me you’re serious--”

“I’ll be wearing one, as well.”

“Hannibal I’m not--” Will laughed for a second. “I’m not doing this. I don’t know what you actually have planned, but you can count me the hell out.” 

Hannibal put the jams and mustards away in the fridge and came to stand directly in front of Will, putting a hand on his arm. 

Will stared down at it.

Hannibal touched his chin, and finally Will looked up. 

“Trust me,” Hannibal said. 

Will scoffed and reached past him for a grape. “That hasn’t always worked out for me.” He dipped the grape and a piece of salami into what he assumed was some kind of raspberry jam. 

“I promise that your trust is not misplaced.” 

Will shook his head and chewed. “For fuck’s sa-“

“This time.”

*****

Will trailed behind as Hannibal led the way to the bedroom. He crossed his arms and watched as Hannibal reached into the closet and unzipped a couple of plastic garment bags. Finally, he handed Will a suit. 

Will stared at the yellow and brown checked pattern, turning it over in his hands. It looked and smelled old, ‘60s or ‘70s. 

“1971.” Hannibal answered. “Mine is similar.” 

“Why are we dressing like ‘70s academics?” Will asked, as Hannibal began to unbutton Will’s flannel shirt. 

“You will be dressed as the professor of phytocytology and plant physiology, who later became a pioneer of gay and lesbian rights,” Hannibal informed him as Will changed into the suit and shoes that Hannibal had grabbed out of the closet, “You were among the first leaders in the field to be welcomed at the White House.” He gestured at his own outfit laid out on the bed. “I am your partner, and fellow associate at the institute you founded.” He straightened the lapels of Will’s jacket. “Comrades in the fight against the Trojans of their time.”

“Modern Patroclus and Achilles?”

Hannibal smiled, carefully hanging Will’s shirt on his side of the closet. 

“What else did they do?” Will asked as Hannibal circled him, straightening and dusting bits of lint off the back of his jacket.

“They died fairly young.” Hannibal had bobby pins in his mouth now, methodically pinning Will’s hair flat to his head next to his ears. “Believed to have committed suicide, as they were found in the Atlantic Ocean at the bottom of a rather steep cliff.” He slipped the wig cap over Will’s flattened hair. “Not far from here.” 

“Believed?” Will looked at Hannibal, but Hannibal gently turned his face back towards the mirror. 

“They were murdered.” Hannibal carefully applied a thin layer of adhesive to Will’s hairline. “But the murderer was never apprehended.” Hannibal reached for the wig off the side table, and Will was silent as Hannibal pressed the wig into the glue at his hairline before disappearing into the bathroom.

Will stared at his discarded shoes in the closet as he listened to Hannibal opening drawers. “How do you know?” He asked when Hannibal emerged with a hairdryer and switched it on. 

“Signs of a struggle on the body.” Hannibal spoke a little louder to be heard over the noise. “Reports of various people and groups perpetrating particularly violent acts against homosexuals to scare them back into the shadows.” When he was done, Hannibal gently gripped Will’s face in his hands, lifting his head left, right, up, and down. “Good.” He smiled.

“That’s awful,” Will said bluntly. 

Hannibal nodded, then took Will’s glasses off.

“Hannibal--” 

Cold plastic slid against his temples and suddenly Hannibal’s face was in focus again. Hannibal put his fist gently under Will’s chin, tilting it up, then stepped back and out of the way.

A blond, time-traveling stranger stared back at Will from the mirror. Hannibal walked to stand behind him, staring at their reflection from over his shoulder. 

Will suddenly turned around. “Do you know who it was?”

Hannibal tucked a piece of hair behind Will’s ear. “Mighty mongoose. Always searching for snakes under the house.” His hand slid down Will’s neck, touching the scar at the top of his shoulder over his jacket. “It was a long time ago. However, we honor them by wearing what they died in. Or at least an approximation of it.”

Hannibal looked towards the mirror again and Will’s gaze followed. 

“I like you as a blond,” Hannibal remarked.

Will snorted.

******

An hour later they were in front of a red row house behind a throng of shrieking Disney characters. Will desperately wanted to run away. 

“Please tell me you plan to eat me soon.” Will murmured, nearly knocking Hannibal over as a Spiderman streaked past him on the way to an absolutely enormous bowl of candy. “Otherwise, this is unconscionable. What the hell are we  _ doing _ here, Hannibal?”

A particularly loud scream caused them both to turn around, but, as they were informed by a passing Moana, the left flank of the group had simply found a frog. 

Hannibal glanced back towards Will. “You doubt my commitment to altruism?”

Will gave him a dubious look as Hannibal called, “Jenny, this way please” at the T’Challa frantically digging a hole in the townhouse yard next door. He turned his attention back to Will. “I assure you I have nothing planned tonight but the betterment of mankind.” 

Will sighed, and fought the urge to scratch his wig.

This pattern continued for an hour and a half, with the two of them corralling various monsters and princesses while keeping an eye on the demonstrated flight risks.

At one of the last houses on the route, Hannibal took Will’s arm and smoothly maneuvered them in front of the children once the tallest Elsa had rung the doorbell. 

The door opened to an older man with a cane, balancing a stainless steel bowl of candy in his other arm. “Okay kids, here’s--” The man looked up and abruptly stopped speaking.

Hannibal smiled blandly at him. 

The older man blinked, looking quickly between them, his breath beginning to rasp. “I--” He dropped the bowl of candy, leaning hard into his right side. He made another loud sound and clutched at his chest, then his left arm, trying to turn around towards the inside of his house, but he lost his balance and abruptly pitched forward. 

The older man landed halfway inside and outside of the house, on top of his cane and the spilled candy. 

The children, silent once he dropped the bowl, screamed. 

Hannibal turned to look at Will, ignoring the rapidly devolving situation behind them.

“Is he DEAD?” Sobbed one of the Elsas.

Will stared back at Hannibal, before glancing down towards the very still body halfway out on his entryway. The older man’s eyes were open and unseeing.

“What happened?” Wailed a Stormtrooper. “Did he hurt himself?”

Will turned back to meet Hannibal’s eye as the chaos reached critical mass, and smiled the tiniest bit. 

Hannibal smiled and brushed his thumb over Will’s cheek under his large glasses. “Snakes beware,” he murmured. 

Will smiled with teeth. 

“Call the police,” Hannibal mouthed to Will before calling out behind him, “Kids, kids, he’s just kidding.”

  
  



End file.
